Snowbound
by olehistorian
Summary: In response to chelsie-prompts on Tumblr. The Prompt is Snowbound. Here is my offering. What happens on New Year's Even when Charles and Elsie are snowbound at the Abbey? Set in the early hours of 1926, just after our friends sang in the New Year. S6 spoilers.


A/N: This is written (hastily) in response to the chelsie-prompts Snowbound challenge on Tumblr. Please pardon glaring errors.

* * *

The New Year's festivities have lasted well into the night what with the birth of Baby Bates and with Mr. Carson making certain that His Lordship's wishes are being carried out. The wine flows freely, poured by the steady hands of Mr. Barrow and with the new year being rung in, the Carsons have decided to make the announcement that Thomas is returning to the Abbey, this time as butler. Carson extends a congratulatory hand to his protégé and then offers a toast to a new year and a new era.

Elsie watches from across the room, keeps an eye on her husband but she is relieved. He has handled this with grace, as the professional that he is. She's also watching Thomas, gauging how he accepts this passing of the guard. And when both men look to her, catch her steely gaze, her appraising eye, she nods her approval. The prodigal has come home and made amends with the father. She wonders how long the peace will last.

Mr. Molesley and Miss Baxter huddle in a corner. Elsie can barely make out the hushed tones of a quiet conversation heavy with meaning, wonders if there is something between the two. She remembers Anna and Mr. Bates chatting away, all to themselves once upon a time. Knees almost pressed together, meaningful looks passing between them, and shared shy smiles. Elsie imagines how it will be until Mr. Molesley begins to properly court the Miss Baxter. She sighs to herself and stifles a grin. Elsie hopes it'll not take the shy schoolteacher nearly as long to get around to courting the lady's maid as it did Mr. Carson to realize his feelings for her.

Mr. Mason corners Mr. Carson and wishes him well in his semi-retirement. The raspy-voiced, grizzled farmer extends an invitation to visit the farm anytime he likes, if he'd like someone to talk with perhaps. When Mr. Mason offers to supply vegetables and eggs for their cottage, Carson is truly touched. It isn't often that people offer something without wanting something in return he thinks, but he knows that this man is genuine. No man who fathered William and has loved Daisy as he has could be any less. Mr. Carson nods and smiles. Before they go their separate ways to mingle with others, the men discuss a contract for the house on Brouncker Road, a standing order for the kitchen there. One final hand shake and Carson once again thanks Mr. Mason for his generous offer then tells him that he hopes he is a regular visitor to their cottage.

While Mrs. Patmore is sad, the tears in her eyes almost spilled over as they sang in the new year and she gave a nod to her friends, Mrs. Hughes rests her hand on the cook's arm and assures her that everything will be fine. That it is a new year and a new era and that Mr. Carson will still oversee things for some time, at least until March and that she will still be Housekeeper long enough to make sure that Thomas is on firm footing. The cook sniffs, nods her head in agreement and offers a small smile to the housekeeper.

Elsie notices that her husband makes for the back door and wonders if something's wrong. She had worried so after he'd spilt the wine and cursed under his breath. He'd felt embarrassed and useless and then the writing was on the wall. His Lordship and Lady Mary had finally come to their decision and they were left to accept it, knew that it was really the only way forward. The inevitable had been put off long enough. She'd taken his arm and they'd gone downstairs, fled to her sitting room and closed the door. After they'd cried a while, clinging to each other, his face buried in her neck, she'd dried his tears and her own. But he is remarkable her husband, he has risen to the occasion but she worries nonetheless when she sees him slip out of the party and to the back door.

He's standing alone staring into the night sky, the snow falling in blinding sheets, the moon's light causing it to glisten like crystals falling to the ground. He thinks of all the Christmases and New Years that he's seen at Downton, of all the people who've come and gone through its doors above stairs and below. That this will be his last New Years celebration is sobering, nearly fifty of them he's celebrated in this house. Thirty of them with Elsie. At least thirteen of those years in love with her, even if he didn't realize it until a few years back.

But he can leave with his head held high. He's been a good butler, one of the best he's been told more often than not. Downton has run steadily under his watch and the household is in position to do so in the future even though things are changing.

"We're not going home tonight. No one is," he says, his voice rumbling through his chest and out into the still night.

Elsie is standing beside him, her hand in his as they look out into the yard that is covered high and low with glistening snow.

"No, it looks as if we're snowbound. I'll need to prepare some rooms," she replies. "Mr. Molesley and Mr. Barrow can stay in their old rooms and Mr. Mason can have your old room."

"My old room, but where will we sleep?" Carson huffs. He's never slept at the Abbey in a room other than his own since becoming butler.

"Well, we surely cannot fit in your bed and I cannot believe that you'd want me on the men's side" she laughs.

"No, I suppose not," he concedes with a laugh. "So what, dear wife what do you suggest?"

They turn back into the house and shut the door firmly behind them. Walking back in the servants' hall, Elsie gently tugs on her husband's hand and as he turns, she places a gentle kiss to his cheek.

"I suggest the Blue Room, Charles." When her husband's eyebrows fly northward and his jaw goes slack in shock at the suggestion of sleeping in the family quarters, his wife gives him a stern look. "I'll not have any of that Charles Carson. Now, go have some wine and leave it to me."

* * *

Settled in for the night, Elsie in her knickers and shift, and Charles in his pants and vest, the Carsons tuck under the luxurious duvet the covers the bed. Lying with his head on his wife's belly and his hand protectively secure around her hip, Charles relaxes as Elsie's fingers thread through his hair.

"See, this isn't so bad is it?" she asks, a hint of teasing in her voice.

"No, I suppose not," he offers quietly. He'd have to admit that it is rather nice, the linen sheets, comfortable pillows, and thick duvet. Nicer than what he's accustomed to but all that really matters is that his wife is here with him.

"You did well tonight. I'm very proud of how you welcomed Thomas back."

He doesn't respond but simply squeezes her hip a little more firmly and Elsie is amazed at how this hand is so strong, so steady when the other has betrayed him but hours ago. She combs through his hair and over the shell of his ear, then down his neck and shoulder and back again.

"What do you think Mr. Mason's intentions are?"

"What do you mean?" Elsie asks.

"With Mrs. Patmore," he answers simply. He feels his wife's belly move up and down as she chuckles. And he wonders if he's hit upon something or if she's laughing because he's being ridiculous. He knows that he's sometimes slow when it comes to matters of the heart, oblivious to what's really going on.

"Oh, I think he has intentions all right," she replies.

"Hmmm," he replies, as he lifts his head and settles in beside her. Charles lifts his hand and strokes his wife's cheek. She is the most beautiful of women to him. From her eyes that sparkle with a hint of mischief, the little upturn of one corner of her mouth when she's teasing him, to the tips of her toes, he loves her. All of her.

"I might have some intentions Mrs. Carson. If you're interested," he murmurs as he leans in and places a kiss to her lips. He relishes in the little noise that she makes when his lips meet hers and if Charles lives to be one hundred years old, she will never cease to enchant and amaze him.

"Oh, Mr. Carson. I am interested in your intentions. Very interested," she replies, her breath hot and tickling in his ear.

Thank you for reading. A note of review would be lovely if you are inclined.


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